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by etherealmindss



Category: SKAM (Italy), SKAM (Italy) RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2019-08-18
Packaged: 2020-09-07 07:37:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20305837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/etherealmindss/pseuds/etherealmindss
Summary: Eleonora and Edoardo miss each other.





	Home

She could feel the memory of him behind her eyelids. 

Edoardo, he’d grown on her. Now he stays here, the phantom imprint of his thumb trailing down her cheek, long gone. The familiar texture of his curls sliding between Ele’s fingers, a distant memory. His lips tripping over the curve of her lips, indulging in every inch of who she is.

He’d gotten into her bloodstream, embedded himself deep into her bones. And now he’s gone.

Eleonora feels the weight of her decision pressing down on her chest. Her own self-inflicted, broken rose-petal dream. One she can’t seem to escape, even in sleep. Flashes of their time together echo through her mind like an old film, the images withered and splayed in faded neutrals. The feelings that erupt inside of her burn at the edges of her mind. Her chin quivers as the first tear falls down her cheek. 

The panic attack follows. 

Desperate to quiet her sobs, Ele covers her mouth with her hand. The inner corners of her eyes fill with tears like a leaky faucet threatening to overflow. She squeezes her eyes shut, desperate to keep the tears at bay. Her breathing is harsh and labored, her forehead damp with beads of sweat that stick to her hair.

She tries to return her breathing to normal, trying to lull herself into a false sense of security. Anything to quiet the voices inside her head. His voice. Telling her that he loved her for the very last time.

That’s the thing about last times. You never know that something is the last time you’ll do something or see someone until it just...is.

She’s broken out of her musing when she feels Filo wrap his arms around her in the darkness of her room. She used to welcome the muted lighting. Now it’s just a reminder of how alone she feels, even around Filo and her friends.

The comforter feels too hot and sticky against her skin. Filo, being able to read her pretty well, removes the covers until it’s just the two of them laying against the mattress with a thin sheet. He pulls her into his arms and loves on his little Spider the only way he knows how. Running his fingers through her hair, he gives her a small kiss on her temple as the overwhelming feeling of sadness erupts from her chest. Sobs wrack her small frame. The thin thread of normalcy that has been keeping her wound up has finally run its course. Eleonora comes undone.

Her jade eyes meet her brother’s brown ones, “I thought you wouldn’t be home tonight.” She says tearfully, her cheeks red and eyes puffy. “I’m sorry if I woke you.”

He rests his head on top of hers, giving her shoulder a little squeeze,”I know it’s been hard for you being here all alone at night.” He turns to face her again, “I just want you to feel like there’s people in your life who love you. People need people, Ele.”

Eleonora shifts to sit up, her sobs turning into hiccups as she pulls Filo into a hug, “I don’t want to be alone. I feel like I’m drowning, Filo. Edo…. he felt like a breath of fresh air. Like I could finally bring my head above water. Everything around me, sounds and people, used to sound so muffled. The world kind of existed in black and white. He made everything technicolor.” She sniffles, wiping her eyes with her fingertips, “I just really don’t want to be alone tonight.”

“I thought you might say that.”

There’s a sound at her bedroom door. Ele turns to see Eva peeking her head in. She gives her friend a watery smile and Eva takes that as her cue to join in on the love nest. She sits on the other side of Ele and leans in to give her a kiss on her cheek.

Tucking a loose strand of Ele’s hair behind her ear, Eva smiles at her warmly, “We’re family. I know you and Edoardo made your own little family. And I know that hurts to not have that anymore. But Filo and I--” She glances over at the boy, “we will always love on you, even on your worst days. And we’ll make sure to fill you up and water you until you bloom. Like how you take care of your plants.”

Eleonora’s hiccups turn into a laugh and happy tears emerge, “I don’t know what I’d do without you guys.”

The three stay up the rest of the night exchanging stories and looking at the stars outside the bay window. But even with the lifted mood and good friends at her side, Edoardo still lingers in the back of her mind.

Edoardo had moved in with some distant relatives after he had ended things with Eleonora. 

It’d been about three months since he’d been gone. Three long months of chasing after the ghost of Ele. 

She was everywhere he went. He saw her in every head of dark hair that passed him on the streets. He smelled her in the rain drops that fell on the garden behind his Aunt and Uncle’s cottage. He heard her in every song that played on his vinyl record.

His first week living with his relatives, they’d gone on a trip to visit some friends. Edoardo sat in the kitchen on the countertop, remembering the lemon tea and his grandmother’s cookies he’d shared with Ele in his kitchen back home. He remembers her sanguine smile, glossy green eyes, and small shoulders engulfed in his brown leather jacket. One minute he’s reminiscing with forlorn longing and the next he’s smashing his aunt’s favorite plates and glasses against the floor and the walls. Glass rains down on him, a hurricane of his own making. And that’s when he begins to understand why hurricanes are named after people.

Eleonora Sava is the sound of shattered glass. 

Edoardo finds himself waiting. On what, he’s not so sure anymore. He’s still waiting, still wondering where she is and what she’s doing. Wondering if her hair has grown past her shoulders or if she’s cut it to the length she wore it sophomore year. Still drawing breath and waiting for her to round the corner with her bright, saturated smile on his trips to the market. He’s still watching, still playing his words and her tearful pleas for him to stay over and over in his mind and still coming up with empty conclusions…. Still. Still caught in Eleonora Francesca Sava’s orbit. Wondering if maybe, possibly, she still thinks of him, too.


End file.
